When the Pain is Too Much
by Anonamus-A
Summary: Based on Reid's line 'What if I had started using Dilaudid again' That's what I'm exploring. Spoilers to SE7EP2 and earlier. T for lang & drug abuse. Enjoy. -A
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Based on Reid's line 'What if I had started using Dilaudid again?' That's what I'm exploring. Spoilers to SE7EP2 and earlier. T for lang & drug abuse. Enjoy. -A (I'm guess-timating Henry's age to be around three.)

Disclaimer: I own nothing (sadly).

Confession is always weakness. The grave soul keeps its own secrets, and takes its own punishment in silence. -Dorothy Dix

When the Pain is Too Much

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he leaned into the warm embrace of his friend. She held him tight, feeling his pain. It tore her up inside to see him like this, so broken and vulnerable. She hadn't seen him in this much pain since he returned home after killing Tobias Hankle.

Spencer was taking Emily's death as hard as any of them. For weeks, he'd been showing up at her house, on the verge of tears. It didn't take long for him to really start crying. He'd apologize later, but she assured him that she didn't mind. Really, she felt horrible for not being able to tell him the truth when she knew how much he was hurting.

"I... I just wish I c-could have s-said good... good-bye," he sobbed.

"I know," she whispered, feeling a tear roll down her own cheek. Then, a small hand tugged on the bottom of her shirt. Henry. "What's the matter, baby?" she asked softly.

"Why is 'Pencer crying, mommy?" he asked.

"Because he misses Emily," she told him.

"He misses Emmy?" JJ nodded. With that, Henry climbed on the couch and hugged Spencer.

Nearly an hour later, Spencer cried as much as his body would premit. Henry had long-since fallen asleep, head resting on Spencer's lap. Careful not to wake the child, Spencer moved him and stood.

"Want me to drive you home?" she asked gently. He shook his head. She pursed her lips, but didn't protest as he walked, softly shutting the door behind him.

Once home, Spencer collapsed on his bed, left to his thoughts. There was a picture of the whole team, Emily included, on his bed-side table, but he didn't need to look at it. Most people forgot what their deceased loved ones looked like over time, but that was impossible for him. Her face, every expression she ever made around him, the way she wore her hair, even the way she _smelled_, would forever be written in his mind. He would never forget his fallen friend, or the pain her loss caused him.

Maybe he _could_... Swallowing, he cast a glance at his locked drawer. A drawer he hadn't opened in quite some time. A drawe he hoped he'd never open again. What is in this drawer? The remainder of the acursed liquid that had threatened to ruin his life once. Dilaudid.

_No_, he thought. _You're stronger than that. You don't need it._But that wreckless, less intellegent voice, the Addiction, begged to differ.

_But you _do _need it, Spencer_, it said. _You're weak and pathetic. Try and fight it all you want, but you know you can't survive without it forever._

_You're wrong_, Spencer argued. _I crossed that bridge a long time ago and, when I did, it made me stronger. _The voice scoffed.

_You? Stong? A second-grade girl is stronger than you. It was miraculous when you beat the Addiction the first time! Face it, you need the high. It makes the pain go away._

_No, it doesn't. It can make me forget the pain, but it won't make it go away forever_, he thought.

_You're right_, the Addiction agreed,_ but that's why you need it. Do you _like_ breaking down like a pussy to JJ all the time?_

_Well, no, but-_

Do you think she likes comforting your ass most every night?

No, but-

See?

it asked. _You need it. You know you want it. It's right here._

I don't!

Spencer insisted.

_You do. _Spencer was crying again by this point. They say that the first sign of madness was talking to yourself, and it seemed Spencer was past that point. He was arguing with a voice in his head. And losing. _Do it. You'll feel better. _

_I know... _Hating himself emensly, Spencer got up. The key was under the lamp, easy to find. It was difficult to unlock the drawer with trembling hands, but he managed it eventually. On top of some papers were the object of his not-so-secret shame. The vials of Dilaudid and a syringe. Biting his lip in an attemp to keep tears at bay, he scooped them up. It was amazing that he didn't drop them, seeing as how his hands were shaking and sweating. As he stared at them, memories came flooding back. Being in the room with Tobias Hankle. His friends' suspicion. Gideon. The high...

His breath was coming out in ragged pants as he fell back on his bed. He hesitated before carefully filling the syringe with the clear liquid. He sat the vials on the bed-side table and stared at the needle in his hand. Did he really want to do this?

_Yes, _the voice encouraged. _You know you do! _

Slowly, he began rolling up his sleeve, staring at the scared skin on the inside of his elbow. He was weak. He realized this. But he could stop himself from doing it. At the last second, he chickend out and plunged the needle into his thigh. He released the liquid into his bloodstream. He could feel the drug working it's way through him immediately. Soon, the high took over. He was no longer in pain, only a drug-enduced euphoria.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Okay, this was originally a one-shot, but as so many of you have added an alert for this story, I figured I might as well continue rather than either making you wait for a continuation that will never come, or send a PM to everyone on that list telling them that there will be no new chapter. This is just easier. xD So, here goes. -A

When the Pain is Too Much  
>Chapter 2<p>

_Worry is like a rocking chair- it gives you something to do, but it doesn't get you anywhere._ -Author Unknown

"Are you okay, Spence?" JJ asked, looking at her friend the next day in the BAU. His head snapped up, glassy eyes meeting hers.

"What? Yeah." Her heart went out to him. The way he looked, he'd probably started crying again when he got home and didn't get much sleep. Oh, how she wished she could tell him the truth. But orders were orders.

"Okay," she said softly. She quickly jotted something down on a sticky note and sat it in front of him. _You know I'm always here if you want to talk. About ANYTHING. _He sighed before crumbling it up and tossing it in his little trash bin. She felt a twing of regret as she walked away.

CM

"Hotch," she said, sitting down, "we need to talk."

"Okay. What do you need?"

"It's Reid."

"What about him?"

"Hotch, I'm worried about him. He's... he's been in a bad way."

"JJ, we all have."

"I know, but..."

"But what?"

"I... I can't tell you. It would embarrass him. If he wants to tell you, that's fine, but I'm not going to betray his confidance."

"What exactly is your point?" he asked, getting a little impatiant.

"I... Hotch I think we should tell them. About Emily-"

"No," he said, point blank.

"It's not fair to them. I know, it's for her good, but..." She glanced out the window. "I can't stand seeing any of them in this much pain."

"You know why we can't do that. Just give them time. Besides, it's not forever."

"That depends."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Hotch, what if we don't find him? Are we going to let them live the rest of their lives without knowing? Or, twenty years from now, and his death is confirmed or he's caught, tell them then?"

"We'll catch him," Hotch all but growled.

"Oh, I didn't know you could see the future," she said sarcasticly, her tone full of venom and ice. "My bad." He glared at her.

"I don't like that tone."

"What? Are you my mom now?" She didn't know where all this was coming from. She never spoke to anyone like this, especially not her team. It was because the sadness, stress, and frustration.

"That's enough, JJ. Get back to work. Now." Without another word, she turned for the door. "And, JJ? My answer is still no." The door slammed in responce.

CM

Spencer felt eyes on the back of his head. After a while, it made him uncomfortable and a bit paranoid. Unable to ignore it any longer, he spun around in his chair to find Morgan staring at him.

"What?" he snapped. A bit shocked at Spencer's reaction, Morgan held up his hands in defeat.

"Nothing."

"Could you stop staring at me?"

"Yeah, fine. You know, you seem a bit grouchy this morning. Are you sure you put enough sugar in your coffee?" Spencer rolled his eyes.

"Ha, ha." He sighed. "Sorry, I didn't get much sleep last night." Unconsiously, he rubbed a spot on his thigh. Morgan saw it as either a nervous tick or hyperactive jitter. No cause for alarm.

"I get it, man. Don't apologize."

CM

Spencer's mood did not improve much throughout the day. A poor probie spilled his coffee on accident and walked away, almost in tears, after he snapped at her. The team was certainly noticing his change in personality. It seemed familiar, but they just couldn't put their fingers on it.

In the confrence room, he couldn't sit still. He kept fidgeting with his hair, though it was too short to be in his eyes. He tapped his fingers, bounced his leg, bit his lip. He seemed on the edge of a nervous break-down. He also seemed be be drinking way more coffee than usual (if that were possible). They were slowly getting worried.

CM

Hotch stared out into the bullpen, watching Reid. He tried to work, but after a few minutes, he'd start staring out into space. Then, suddenly, he'd snap back into reality and realize his hands were shaking (that was visible even to Hotch) when he picked up his pen. Or he'd rub his forhead, grimmacing a little, as if he had a headache. Maybe he did.

This went on for quite a while, actually. One time, when he was zoned out, Rossi came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. The kid jumped a foot in the air with a startled yelp and fell out of his chair. Rossi's expression was a mix between shock/worry and amusement. He helped Reid back up, but was unsure what to do after that. He never freaked out like that. Perhaps JJ was right when she said that he was in a bad way...


	3. Chapter 3

When the Pain is Too Much  
>Chapter 3<p>

_Let us interrogate the greap apparition, that shines so peacefully around us. -_Ralph Waldo Emerson

Spencer woke up the next day, a little light-headed, and realized that it was his day off. Normally, he would have loved having a day to sleep in and do as he wished, without the grim realities of his career looming over him. But today, he would have given anything to escape his thoughts brought on by solitude. If it hadn't been for Hotch's strict order for him to stay home (he'd mentioned to Morgan that he might come in to catch up on the paperwork he didn't finish the day before), he would have been up an hour earlier and on his way to the Bureau. But, no. That was but a dream.

Sighing, he pulled himself out of bed, grabbed some clothes, and headed to the bathroom. Maybe a nice long, warm shower would help clear his muddled head. Mostly, he just let the hot water run over him. He was reluctant to step out, but the water had run cold. When he pulled the curtain aside, he saw that the mirror had fogged up due to the steam. Maybe he'd been in there longer than he though...

After dressing, he went into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. The strong aroma filled the room, calming him a bit. He waited, rather impatiently, for it to finish brewing. Finally, it was ready. He poured the black liqid into a mug and started added his usual quantity of sugar. He blew away a puff of steam before lifting it to his lips and taking a sip. It was scolding hot, but he didn't care. He was used to the slight burn as it slid down his throat.

All too soon, the mug was empty. He stared at the bottom, undecided upon getting up and getting more. Eventually, he decided against it. Bored, he walked into his sitting room and opened his book. The words blurred together, making reading impossible. Hissing out an irritated sigh, Spencer threw the book down and stood. He knew what he wanted to do. So, he got his keys and walked out.

The walk was short. On the way, he picked up a bunch of flowers. Soon, he found himself entering a cemetery. The cemetery Emily Preniss' body rested in. The cemetery was completely empty, eerie and deathly silent. How fitting.

It didn't take long to find the grave. He sat the flowers down in front of it, looking at the smooth stone with his friend's name etched on it. A lump rose in his throat. A hot tear started rolling down his cheeks, raising goosebumps where the chilly air hit the tear's trail. A few minutes later, he was on his knees, letting the tears fall as the pleased.

He didn't know how much longer it was, maybe an hour, but the temperature seemed to drop. Then, he was aware that he wasn't alone. Turning around, he saw a small girl, maybe four or five years old. She stared blankly at him, he blonde curls seemingly not affected by the breeze. He crystal blue eyes were wide, eyelashes batting when she blinked. A small pink rose was in her hands. She looked so, so sad.

"Hello..." he said uncertainly. She waved slowly back. "C-can I help you?" She shook her head. "Um... what's your name?"

"Clair," she said simply. Her voice sounded like a peal of bells, but is was low and morose. Mournful.

"Where's your mother?" he asked.

"Dead." This shocked him.

"Um, where's your father?"

"Dead." Now he felt really bad.

"Who are you here with?"

"Nobody." His eyes widened. "Why are you crying?" He swallowed.

"I miss the person who's burried here," he told her. She walked over, reading the name on the stone.

"Emily... was she your wife?" Spencer was getting rather uncomfortable.

"No. She was just a friend."

"Did you love her?"

"She was like a sister." Another tear rolled down his cheek. Looking at him with those heart-breakingly sad eyes, she wiped away the tear. Her little hand was ice-cold. This shocked him.

"Mommy and Daddy were laughing," she said quitely. He opened his mouth to speak, but she kept going. "It was dark and stormy. Then, it was bright, and there was a loud bang. That's the last thing I remember. They're with Jesus now."

"Are you lost?" he asked. She nodded.

"They're burried over there." She pointed to the tombstones behind Emily's. He turned his head for just a moment, to see where she was pointing, but when he looked back, the little girl was gone. On the ground was the rose. He stood and picked it up. Curios, he walked over to the grave she pointed at. On the left was the name Marge Willson, October 5, 1976-May 22, 2011. On the right was Chris Willson, June 27, 1972-May 22, 2011. But, there was a third name, in the middle. Clair Willson, August 17, 2006-May 22, 2011.

Spencer nearly passed out. The girl had told him that her name was Clair, and that her parents were dead, but this stone said that she was too... She'd said she was lost, and that the last thing she remembered were bright lights and a bang. Could that mean... No, ghosts weren't real. Spencer certainly didn't believe in them. But, as he looked at the rose in his hand, he wasn't so sure. Where had she gone? Where had she come from?

By this point, Spencer's head was killing him. He turned to leave, but soon turned back. He looked at the rose in his hand once more. Shaking his head, he sat it in front of Clair's name before walking away. He stopped for a moment at Emily's grave.

"Good-bye," he whispered. And, with that, he left, refusing to cry, and refusing to look back.


	4. Chapter 4

When the Pain is Too Much  
>Chapter 4<p>

_The cruelest lies are often told in silence. -_Robert Louis Stevenson

He was relieved to be at work the next day. He had no headache, and coffee and sugar flowed through his veins, keeping him wide awake. But, thoughts of the previous day kept attacking him, like angry hornets inside his mind. Could he really have seen a ghost? As impossible as it seemed, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had.

"Something on your mind, Pretty Boy?" Morgan asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"What? Oh, hey. No, just... thinking."

"I can see that. I was refering to what you were thinking about."

"Oh. Just stuff. You know."

"Not really."

CM

JJ watched Spencer carefully. He didn't seem to be as irriatable as he had been. She figured the day off would have done more bad than good, but maybe she was wrong. She was actually suprised that he hadn't showed up at her house. Maybe he was finally starting to heal.

Though, he was very distracted. She wondered what was going on in that briliant mind of his.

CM

"Come in," she called, not looking up from the one of many computer screens. The door squeaked open, then closed softly. Finally, she turned around. "What can I do for you, young Boy Wonder?"

"Do... do you think you could look up a name for me?" he asked softly.

"Is it for a case?" He bit his lip and shook his head. She felt bad for him. She, too, had noticed how hard of a time he'd been having since Emily's death. "What's the name?"

"Chris Willson," he said, opting for the father. She typed furiously. A few moments later, a newspaper clipping apeared on the screen.

"Chris Willson, his wife, Marge, and daughter, Clair were... killed in May by a drunk driver..." she looked up at Spencer. "Why did you want me to look for this?" He hesitated before answering.

"I... I went to Emily's grave yesterday," he admitted. "They weren't burried far from her. I remembered seeing the name Willson in the paper, and the head line was something about a car accident, but I didn't read the story. It made me wonder, but I couldn't find anything when I looked online."

"Oh, okay." He stared at the picture. She could see the hurt in his eyes, probably about having had to tell her about why he was where he was the day before. It was heart-breaking.

So, she stood. He looked up, confused, as she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a hug. He stiffened, unprepared for her sudden attack. He relaxed a moment later, and even returned the hug. Finally, she let him go.

"Thank you," he said. She had a feeling it was for more than just typing on a keyboard.

"Your welcome," she mutted, staring after him as the door snapped shut.

* * *

><p>AN: The hug is deticated to 'im. Ami. a. messneger. of. God' who asked me so kindly to pass a hug on for Reid. :) -A


	5. Chapter 5

When the Pain is Too Much  
>Chapter 5<p>

_You get the best out of others when you give the best of yourself. _-Harvey S. Firestone

When Spencer got home that night, he knew what he had to do. It's something he should have done a long, _long _time ago. Way before Emily's death. He couldn't believe it took him this long to realize it.

As soon as he had his door closed, Spencer was running to his bedroom, pulling the key out from under the lamp, and unlocking the hidden drawer. Aside from a slight glare, he ignored the Dilaudid, pushing it aside, and dug to the very bottom. There it was. An envelope with a letter addressed to him.

He didn't need to read it to know what it said, but he did. Slowly.

_Spencer,_

_I knew it would be you who came to the cabin to check on me. I'm sorry the explaination couldn't be better, Spencer. And I'm sorry it doesn't make more sense. But I've already told you, I just don't understand any of it anymore. I guess I'm just looking for it again. For the belief I had back in college, the belief I had when I first met Sara and it all seemed so right. The belief in happy endings._

Spencer let a slightly broken breath out. It'd been so long since he found this letter, but it cut him all the same. He told the team about it, of course, but there was one thing he'd kept to himself, because that what Gideon had intended. It was a little slip of paper in the envelope.

The little slip of paper had two lines on it. The first:

_I'll always answer._

The second line was a number for a cell phone. He didn't even bother reading it before. Spencer was too hurt to even consider calling. Instead, he stuffed back in the envelope, along with the letter, and locked it away.

Now, he needed the man he'd always considered his father. Sure, William Reid was biologicly his father, and had cared about him, but Gideon was always there for him, even when he stuggled with the addiction the first time. He supposed the reason he never bothered calling Gideon was because it brought back the abandonment from his actual father.

Sighing, Spencer stood and pulled his phone out of his pocket. As he dialed the number slowly, he sat on his bed. Spencer hesitated before pressing the little, green button. When he did, he held it to his ear and waited. The line was connected on the third ring.

_"Hello?" _a man said on the other end. The familiar voice pierced him like a knife. He honestly considered hanging up, but forced himself to speak.

"H-hello," he muttered, hardly able to hear himself. Still, there was an intake of breath over the line.

_"Spencer?" _

"Uh... yeah. Hey."

_"I figured, after a few months went by, that you were too mad to ever call."_

"I was. But... but I..." He didn't know what to say.

_"You need to talk?" _Gideon guessed.

"Yeah..." Spencer was very close to tears now.

_"I'm not far from Virginia," _Gideon admitted. _"Would you meet me in a few days?" _

"Um, yeah, sure. Where?"

_"I still own the cabin. Meet me there on Monday after you get off work?" _

"I'll be there," Spencer promised. With that, the line went dead and he let a few tears spill.


	6. Chapter 6

When the Pain is Too Much  
>Chapter 6<p>

_Every parting gives a foretaste of death, every reunion a hint of the resurrection. _-Arther Sohopenhauer

Spencer was jittery at work on Monday. He downed at least five cups of coffee before ten in the morning. It seemed impossible for him to sit still. The rest of the team were getting very concerned. The younger man just blew of their questions, eventually ignoring them all together.

Morgan, who'd been watching Spencer closely, saw him slip away to go to the restroom. He followed, making sure to stay out of sight. Reid disappeared into a stall, and Morgan slipped in silently, blocking the door. A moment later, the toilet flushed and Spencer reappeared. He jumped when he saw Morgan.

"Hey," he said casually as he washed his hands. Spencer tried to push past Morgan when he was done, to no avail. "Can you move? I need to get back to work."

"Not till you tell me what the hell's up with you."

"Don't know what you mean," Spencer muttered.

"Don't give me that crap. I have eyes, kid. We all do." The younger man's face burned red. "Come on. Whatever it is, you know you can tell me." Spencer took a deep breath.

"You can't tell anyone. Promise you won't."

"I swear to God, whatever you say is between you and me." Reid smiled a little.

"Thanks... I'm meeting Gideon after work today," he admitted. It wasn't exactly his problem, which is what Morgan was worried about, but it was certainly on his mind and making him nervous.

"Are... are you serious?" Spencer nodded. "Damn... how'd you get ahold of him?"

"He gave me a phone number in the letter."

"And you're just now contacting him?" Rather uncomfortable, he nodded again. "Because of Emily..."

"Yeah."

CM

"Hello?" he called into the building, walking slowly in. The last time he'd been there, he had his heard trampled on by a man he considered her surogate fater. He didn't know what to expect.

"Spencer," a relieved voice called from the living room. It was a painfully familiar voice, one he'd dreaded hearing, but longed to hear at the same time.

"Gideon," he sighed, relief flodding through him as the older man appeared. Gideon looked rather aged, but relaxed. A small smile was plastered on his face as he wrapped Spencer in a hug. A hug the younger man failed to return. Soon, Gideon let go. He, instead, studied Spencer's face.

"You're using again." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Spencer's face fell.

"I'm weak..."

"You're not weak," Gideon told him, a fiercness in his voice that startled the younger man.

"I miss her."

"I know." Reid's head snapped up.

"You know about..."

"Emily's death?" Gideon nodded. "I saw her grave, though something very odd happened..."

"What?"

"I met a very sad little girl. I think her name was Clair..." So Spencer _wasn't _going insane. Relief flooded through him. "She just disappeared. I wonder where she went..."

"She's dead," Spencer blurted out.

"What?"

"She's burried along with her parents. I even saw an artical in a news paper."

"Intersting..." It was silent. And awkward. Gideon studied Spencer again. "Come on," he said, leading him to the living room. "Let's talk."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Scenes from SE7 EP1 It Takes a Village. I own squat. Poor me... -A

When the Pain is Too Much  
>Chapter 7<p>

_Some people think it's holding on that makes us strong- sometimes it's letting go. _-Author Unknown

"I've been stupid," he said.

"You've been hurt," the other countered. Spencer wiped away a tear.

"Drugs have no excuse."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Spencer," Gideon said.

"How can I not be?" There was a pause. Gideon studied Spencer. In this breif moment, the memories of his time with the BAU came rushing back. It had been at his suggestion that Spencer got the job in the first place, that the unexperianced, underage, hardly-legal adult fresh out of the academy got chosen over dozens of extremely qualified agents. Some had their doubts, but over time, Reid proved them wrong, proved himself an asset to the team.

The poor kid had had a hard life, growing up without a father for the better part of his childhood and a mother who couldn't truly be there for her son. High school before he was even a teenager. Being pushed into the real world before his eighteent birthday.

Then Tobias Hankle. The whole reason they were having this problem now was because the addiction caused by his kidnap and torture at the hands of Hankle. Then Emily's death. Too much stress in a mind that can't forget anything it's seen equals a breaking point eventually.

"You let go."

CM

"Get anywhere with Doyal?" Reid asked as Morgan walked into the confrence room.

"Doyal doesn't think Jaresey has the guts to him on," the older agent replied. Garcia, who'd been standing next to Spencer, stepped away.

"But that's definately Jaresey on the tape," she told them. Hotch walked in. His facial hair was overgrown from lack of shaving.

"Welcome back," Morgan said as Garica took a seat.

"Thanks," Hotch said shortly. "Everybody have a seat." Shrugging, they did as they were told. Except Morgan.

"Why?" the agent asked without moving. "What's going on? Everything alright?" Hotch sighed a little.

"Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team. As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyal. But the doctors were able to stablize her and she was airlifted for Boston to ... (can never understand what Hotch says here, sorry. Just use your imaginations. If anyone DOES know, I would love to hear it!). Her identity was strictly need to know. She stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to, for her security." He paused to let it all sink in. The shock was palpable. Hotch didn't miss the look of hurt on their faces.

"She's alive?" Garcia asked, eyes wide. Hotch said nothing. He noticed the rather pissed look Morgan was giving him, but ignored it as best he could.

"But we burried her..." Reid muttered, half to Hotch, half to himself. Hotch couldn't ignore that.

"As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues, they should be aimed directly toward me."

"Any issues?" Morgan asked, incredelous. "Yeah, I got issues!" They could here footsteps coming closer. All eyes turned to the door. There stood Emily Prentiss, their fallen friend. She looked nervous.

"Ohmygod," Garcia muttered, very close to tears. It was silent for a moment as they tried to process what they were seeing. Morgan looked between Emily and Hotch.

Unable to stop himself, Reid jumped up and wrapped her in a hug.

"I am so sorry," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder and looking into his eyes. He could easily tell she was telling the truth. She turned to Garcia. "I really am. Not a day went by that I didn't want to..." she trailed off when she saw the hurt, broken look on Morgan's face.

"Really," she told him, almost desperately. "Really I..." She walked over to him. "You didn't deserve that. And I'm so sorry." She put a hand on his arm, willing him to hear what she was saying. Then she wrapped him in a hug. For a moment, he just stood there. Eventually, though, he returned it, but only breifly.

"There's so much I wanna tell you guys," she continued, "and I will, I promise, but right now I really need to know what's going on with Declan."

In that moment, Reid's whole life seemed to turn upside-down. On one hand, he was impossibly happy she was alive. On the other, he felt betrayed. Like he, as well as Morgan, Garcia, and Rossi, weren't to be trusted with the truth.

CM

"The Committie made it clear that they would not support a rouge team," Strauss told them. "Agent Prentiss convinced them you are not that. They _will_be watching you closely, so I suggest you play by their rules.

"So, we're okay?" Garcia asked hesitantly.

"The suspension is lifted for everyone," Strauss assured her.

"Thank you, ma'am," JJ said.

"There may be more paperwork considering your... situation," she continued, talking to Emily, "but the team is lucky to have you. If you're interested." Emily wasn't sure about what to say.

"May I think about it?" Prentiss asked quietly.

"Of course," Strauss said, nodding. They all stared at Emily.

"I'm in," she said. After a moment, she was unable to supress a smile. None of them were.

"I have a stack of paper on my desk," Erin said. "I'm happy to pass them along."

"I'll pick them up in the morning," Hotch told her. A moment later, Morgan spoke.

"Emily, um... what did you tell them?" There was no doubt as to who he was talking about.

"The only people I know who could accomplish that mission just walked out. They do their jobs with integridy and, most importantly, they honor their oath. 'I will support and defend the constitution of the United States of America, against all enemies, foreign and domestic. I will bear true faith and allegance to the saying, that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservaion or puropse of evasion. That I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office of which I'm about to enter, so help me God.'" When she was done, they joined around, talking to their lost friend, all glad she was back where she belonged.

But, underneath the happiness, Spencer was hurting. He'd gone back every promise he'd made himself. And every promise he's silently made all of them. Sure, Gideon was helping him, but would it really be enough?


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Scenes taken streight from SE7 EP2 Proof. I own nothing! Hope you like it! -A

When the Pain is Too Much  
>Chapter 8<p>

_The real fault is to have faults and not to amend them._-Confusius

"Hey!" JJ greated Reid as he stepped off the elevator. "Where have you been? I wanted to do brunch this weekend." He hardly looked up from his paper.

"I had to deal with some stuff with my mom- have you seen Garcia?" he asked. JJ and Emily were confused.

"Uh... she's with Rossi." He didn't even slow his pace. "He hates me," he heard JJ say.

"Hmm, he was just busy," Emily defended. "Let it go."

CM

"So, Beth got off here and headed northwest for her class," he said as a bus pulled away.

"It's amazing no one witnessed her abduction," JJ mused.

"Emily was burried six feet under and wound up in Paris," he told her bitterly. "Anything's possible, right?" He couldn't help the anger at the two women. It was irrational, he knew, and he really shouldn't have been made, but it wasn't something he could control.

"So, that _is _what this is about," she said.

"You know, maybe our UnSub's a little bit like Bundi (don't ask, I can't spell)," he continued, ignoring her. "He feigns an injury in order to get her to help him."

"You know, Spence, if you wanna talk about-" he cut her off.

"Maybe he tried another type, like 'Wow, you're really pretty. You should be a model. I can take your photo.'"

"I'll take that as a 'no,'" she muttered as he started walking away.

"Either one would disarm her," he said.

"Charm's quite the killer," she said, giving up.

"So are tears," he added. "Whatever his ruse was, the UnSub most likely used it to get her into his vehicle."

"Well, if Abby was last seen at a bus stop a few miles away, then he definatly had means of transportation."

"Hopefully the disposal site will tell us more," he added before walking away.

CM

"Again, he's disposing at an area frequently visited by homeless people," Rossi said.

"This is an equal distance between the last two dump sites," Spencer observed.

"Well," JJ said, opening the victim's mouth, "he burned her tongue with a chemical this time."

"So, he removed her ability to taste," Rossi said.

"Why would he do that?" a detective asked. Brace yourselves for a Reid Somewhat Relevant Fact of the Day.

"Well, historically, this type of torture was used to prevent someone from revealing a secret."

"Maybe she offended him," JJ suggested.

"Wonder what that's like," he mused sarcasticly. It was pretty obvious that this conversation had a double meaning.

"Her lips are extreamly chapped," Rossi said, trying to get things back on topic.

"She was probably forced to repeatedly participate in some sort of kissing fantasy," Reid observed.

"And when things go awry, he takes the offending sense away," JJ concluded.

"He tortured her in these clothes, which means the eighties are essential to his delusion," Spencer said.

"Maybe that's when this rejection occured and he held on to her clothes all these years," Rossi speculated.

"And now," JJ sighed, "he's attacking girls who remind him of women from that time."

"He's fixated on her type and remakes them to fit his fantasy," Reid added.

"But, why start now?" the detective asked.

"Something probably triggered it," JJ told her. "Instead of dealing with it, he's acting out." She shot a sharp glance at Spencer, telling him it had a double meaning meant for him. He met her gaze, but said nothing. He realized she was right.

CM

They were back in the police station. Spencer walked into a room and JJ followed him.

"Specne," she said, "we've gotta talk about this."

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked, not really expecting her to answer.

"I get it, okay? You're disappointed with the way we handled Emily."

"Look," he said shortly, "I've got a lot going on, alright?" He started to walk way.

"You... you know what I think it is?" she asked, stopping him. He looked her in the eye. "You're mad that Hotch and I controled our micro-expressions at the hospital, and you weren't able to detect our diseption."

"You think this is about my profilling skills?" he asked, giving her an 'are you really that dumb?' look. She shrugged. "Jennefer, listen. The only reason you were able to manage my preseptions is because I trusted you. I came to your house for _ten weeks_ in a row, _crying _over losing a friend. And not _once _did you have the desentsy to tell me the truth."

"I couldn't," was all she could say. She couldn't meet his eyes.

"You _couldn't_, or you wouldn't?" She'd never heard his voice so icy, so venomous. It worried her. She was trying very hard not to cry, knowing the pain she caused her friend.

"No," she spat, "I _couldn't._" Spencer sighed.

"What if I'd started taking dilauded again? Would you have let me?" he asked before he could stop himself. He thought for sure that this would give him away, that, in that moment, all the pieces would come together and she would know. She would think he was weak, that he failed. So would the whole team.

"You _didn't_," she said, giving him an odd look. He could see it in her eyes that she was considering the truth in her words. She sounded as if she was trying to convince herself. Spencer inwardly sighed in relief.

"Yeah, but I thought about it," he said darkly, lying through his teeth. He did so much more than thinking. Almost as mad at himself as he was at JJ, he turned to leave.

"Spence!" she called. He looked back as she stepped forward. He lifted his arms, giving her a questioning look and lifted her arms, daring her to say something. "I'm sorry." It's all she could think. A small, begging smile crossed her face.

"It's too late, alright?" he told her, continuing out. As he went, the team was in disbelief at the scene they just witnessed.

CM

Nervously, he rang the doorbell. As he waited, he bit his lip. A moment later, Morgan opened the door. A smile crossed the older agents face when he saw who was behind door number one.

"I thought you were gonna skip out on us," Derek said as he let Spencer in.

"So did I," Reid muttered. Together, they walked to Rossi's kitchen. They snuck in. "Sorry I'm late." That was lame, he decided. Regardless, he walked forward with a smile on his face.

"Yeah," Rossi said, giving him a sharp look, "and this is why I cook alone." Doing the half-smile, half-lip biting thing he did, the stood between JJ and Emily, smiling at the rest of the team when he stopped.

"So, uhh..." Emily said, holding up her hands, "when _do_we get to drink the wine?"

"Almost there," Rossi assured her. "Okay. Start at the beginning. Eat what you cook. I'll supervise, but we're gonna do this all together. Just. Like. A family." They couldn't supress small chuckles at this.

"Okay, now?" JJ asked, holding up her glass of wine. Dave smiled, giving a small nod.

"Now." They all picked up their glasses and started clicking together with everyone else. Everyone was smiling, enjoying themselve.

Was Spencer perfectly fine? No, not really. Was he happy? You bet. He knew that he would be okay. He had to have faith in himself and his strength. Not to mention his amazing team, who were his even more amazing friends. And he had Gideon. He decided that he would tell them tonight about Jason.

His anger at JJ had evaporated as he had time to think things over. For now, he would enjoy the moment. And the food. Everything was as it should be for Spencer Reid and the rest of the BAU. 

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><p>And that's the end, folks! Tell me what you think! -A<p> 


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